


What a Whump-erful World

by wordscorrupt



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Gen, Hurt Peter Parker, Hurt/Comfort, Parent Tony Stark, Precious Peter Parker, Sick Peter Parker, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Whump
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-17
Updated: 2019-01-17
Packaged: 2019-10-11 18:37:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17452283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wordscorrupt/pseuds/wordscorrupt
Summary: Where in Peter never stops getting injured while Tony can never catch a break.





	1. "Someone catch him!"

**Author's Note:**

> I made the mistake of asking my followers to send me numbers from a post of whump dialogue prompts and here we are now. Enjoy. Bask in Peter's misery.

Peter’s urgent, raspy voice resonated to all the other Avengers through their comm.

“My web - web shooters! They’re not working! I ca- can’t do anything!”

Tony felt an agonizing, cold tug at his heart as he looked up in time to see his kid flying off the side of the building, courtesy of one the robots that had recently invaded the city.

“Someone catch him!” Steve’s voice ordered at the same time Tony fired up his thrusters full force and raced towards his kid.

“Friday, give me an estimate of time til Peter reaches the ground.”

“Time til impact is approximately one minute and twenty-two seconds and counting, sir.”

Impact. Blow. Crash. Smash.

“Fifty-seven seconds, sir.”

Too fast. Too fucking fast. Has he even fucking moved from his place? You’re not gonna catch him.

He had been working on upgrading Peter’s suit when the invasion hit. That included removing the parachute which at the moment could come in really fucking handy. 

I’m coming, Petey. I’m coming. I’m gonna catch you. I swear I will.

“Thirty seconds, sir.”

Tony whispered silent prayers to anyone listening as he dodged the influx of robots that were starting to swarm him.

“Mis - Mister Stark!” Peter cried as he saw the suit flying towards him and Tony could see the kid’s limbs flailing, attempting, failing at trying to grab anything that could stop his dissent. Peter reached out a desperate hand towards Tony.

“Ten seconds, sir.”

Just a little closer. A little closer and he’ll have the kid in his arms. Just a litt-

Tony cried out as one of the robots rammed into him from the side completely throwing him off course.

“No! Peter!” Tony’s anguished voice cried out. He managed to fire a rocket at the robot and blow up it into pieces. 

It’s too late. Too late.

It took every ounce of agonizing pain and misery to glance down at the ground below him so he could welcome the site of his kid, his son, his baby lying in a puddle of his own blood because he failed to protect him. Failed to protect the one thing that got him out of bed in the morning. 

Nothing.

“Tony, Tony I’ve got him,” Rhodey’s voice broke through his thoughts. Without wasting another second, Friday located Rhodey and Tony bolted to their location. His boots crashed down onto the ground with too much force and he hurriedly escaped from his suit, running towards Peter who was cradled in his best friend’s arms.

“Gimme,” Tony pleaded, voice laced heavily with the sobs crawling up his throat.

Tony stretched out his arms, gently grabbing a hold of his kid and bringing him in close to his chest feeling the kid’s arms wrapping around his neck.

Warm. Safe. Alive.


	2. “The pain meds aren’t working! Don’t you hear him?”

It started a couple days ago, with a fever and stiff neck that led to the predicament they were in now.

Happy dropped Peter off on Friday to spend the weekend at the compound but at first glance, Tony knew something was not right. Usually the kid was practically skipping into the lab, bouncing off the walls with this kind of youthful vibrating energy that Tony had quickly fallen in love.

But that time, the kid hazard stumbled into the lab, a miserable expression across his face. Before Tony could even react, the kid was more so crawling into this lap, latching onto Tony and pressing his face into his mentor’s chest.

He had been burning.

“D’nt feel ‘ood,” Peter muffled voice informed him.

Happy had texted him a few minutes earlier to warn him that the kid was a little off, but Tony was not ready for this. He was used to dealing with a sick Peter, but usually, that meant a stubborn Peter that refused to acknowledge the fact that he was sick even after Tony laid out all the facts. A sick Peter was hesitant to even allude to the fact that he might not be well and brushed away any question of it. A sick Peter masked his illness away until Tony had to practically chisel him out of it.

This was not the normal sick Peter that Tony had learned to deal with and it terrified him.

He didn’t hesitate for a second as he took quick control over the situation, cradling the teen in his arms as he rushed towards the medbay. Whether it was a gut feeling or something else more visceral, Tony knew that Peter was not okay and that was never an acceptable definition of the kid in his books.

Hours in the medbay, struggling to get Peter to stop withering around for the doctors to examine him ended with a diagnosis of the flu.

“You don’t understand. He’s had the flu before, this, this isn’t right,” Tony had argued as the doctor handed him a packet of information on how to manage the flu, like he hadn’t memorized the information from the first time around.

The doctor explained to him that Peter was just experiencing a more severe version of the flu than from last time. He had nodded his head, watching the doctor turn around to leave before grabbing his tablet and sending an urgent message to Bruce, practically begging him to leave his conference early to fly over and take a look at Peter.

By the time he arrived two days later, Tony was at his wit’s end and ready to tear his hair out. No amount of cold baths could bring down Peter’s raging fever. The kid had sweat through any pajamas that Tony could get him in to the point that Tony just had to leave him in his boxers. Days and nights were spent trying desperately to comfort Peter as he suffered through severe headaches that had him thrashing around in his bed and more often than not ended with him throwing up the small amount of food that Tony had managed to get him to eat.

When Bruce finally arrived, He took one look at Peter and with wide eyes, demanded that they go the medbay instantly. Tony had carried Peter down, blanket and all, his cheek pressed against the kid’s matted curls. In the elevator ride down to the medbay, Peter’s whimpers and Tony’s soft coos were the only things that had resonated in the small space.

Once they had reached the medbay, Bruce had directed him to lay his kid down on one of the exam beds as he started to rummage through the cabinets.

“Bruce, what’s wrong with him?” It was the question he had dared to ask but needed to know the answer of. Tony hated being lost in the dark, especially if it pertained at all to Peter’s health and wellbeing.

“I looked at the symptoms and doctor’s notes from when you first brought him in. This may have started out as the flu, but it’s way past that right now. My guess is acute bacterial meningitis but we can’t conclude that until we run a few tests, mainly blood cultures and testing a sample of cerebrospinal fluid.”

Bruce returned with a tray full of items depositing them on a stand next to the bed before glancing over at Tony whose face had paled.

“We’ll do the blood cultures first as it takes at least forty-eight hours to get the preliminary result back. Then the spinal tap.”

“That requires an anesthetic and you know any kind of it is just going to be metabolized instantly,” Tony had reminded him.

Bruce had sighed, nodding his head before replying, “Yes, but we can try to manage the pain during with medications.”

“He’ll metabolize those just as quickly!”

“We’ll keep a steady, heavy dose going through an intravenous line, Tony. I know it’s not the best option, but the only one we have at the moment.”

Tony had gritted his teeth, leaving Bruce to set everything up while he focused on Peter who had been unaware of the entire conversation, similar to much of all his other surroundings in the past two days. But for once, Tony was relieved that Peter’s state of awareness was diminished. Maybe, just maybe with the help of the medications, they would be able to get through the testing with less difficulty than Tony was imagining.

How wrong he had been.

“The pain meds aren’t working! Don’t you hear him?” Tony’s roared, his wide, distressed eyes landing on Bruce.

“I hear him, Tony! I’m trying to go as fast as I can!” Bruce’s voice barely could be heard over the tormented sounds coming from his kid.

If there was one thing in this world that Tony could go his entire life without experiencing again it was listening to the choked, gut-wrenching sobs coming from Peter.

“P-p-please, s-stop.”

Cross that. Peter’s begging for the inevitable was worse than anything else. 

Tony could list about a hundred different personally agonizing scenarios he’d rather suffer through than have to be present in this moment of time, trying desperately to hold down a thrashing teen in his arms as a needle dug around in the kid’s back.

Small fingers dug at his shirt, the material already having been ripped at the seams the moment that Bruce had inserted the needle. Tony had his forehead pressed against the teen’s one, whispering soft, reassuring words that he prayed would make an effect on Peter.

“It’s almost over, kiddo. I swear, it’s almost over. You’re doing so good.”

For a moment, the cries stopped as Peter’s warm, short gasps of breath brushed against Tony’s cheek and for one desperate split second Tony imagined that the medicine had finally done its job before just as quickly Peter was reverting back to the sobs that Tony was all too familiar with.

Tony lifted his head up for a moment, glancing at Bruce who had a steady, determined yet pressing look on his face as his hands worked delicately to obtain the sample of spinal fluid.

“Please tell me it’s almost over,” Tony begged.

Bruce didn’t look up but answered briskly, “Just a few more minutes and it’ll be done.”

Tony bit his tongue before turning back to Peter, peppering the kid’s forehead with kisses.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Petey,” Tony whispered, delicate fingers brushing the kid’s tears away.

This was what his own personal hell was going to be like, Tony concluded as he pressed his lips to the side of Peter’s head, resting them there for a few seconds. He basked in his thoughts for a few more moments before a retching sound pulled him back out.

“Oh, kiddo,” Tony murmured leaning back and seeing a trail of vomit running down the side of Peter’s chin, landing in a puddle of it that was on the bed. He grabbed a small cloth and gently wiped away at his chin, careful to avoid any of the mess on the bed.

“Done.” Bruce suddenly exclaimed as Tony was cleaning up Peter’s face and he looked up in time to see him cap final vial of the sample and he didn’t think he would ever hate anything else more than that tiny vial of fluid.

Slowly, Peter’s cries diminished until there was nothing but aching whimpers left to replace them.

“We’ll have to roll him onto his back,” Bruce told him as he got up from his stool.

“Not on this bed. I’m not letting him lay down next to a puddle of his own vomit,” Tony demanded and after a few more arguments, Bruce allowed him to carry Peter over to one of the more suitable beds.

“Be gentle,” Bruce warned him and Tony scoffed. As if he was ever anything but gentle when it came to his kid.

Much like one would handle a newborn, Tony carried Peter over to the new bed and carefully deposited him down onto his back. Nevertheless, Peter let out a pained cry as his back touched the surface.

“Shh, you’re okay, bud. I got you,” Tony cooed, pressing a kiss to Peter’s forehead once he got him settled. While Bruce went to the lab in the back of the medbay to run the tests, Tony occupied himself with getting Peter cleaned up and settled in. Peter had instantly knocked out the second Tony tucked a blanket around him.

Bruce came by an hour later to inform him that he was going to start Peter on a round of antibiotics but once he got the first batch of results back, he would start to tailor it around the specific bacteria that had caused everything in the first place. 

“I’m sorry,” Tony started to say as he watched Bruce hook up the bag of antibiotics and another bag of fluids before being interrupted.

“Stop, Tony. You have nothing to apologize for,” Bruce stated, leaving no room for argument. Tony sighed as he turned back to the IV pump.

“You had every right to act the way you did. I don’t deal with a whole lot of young patients in my line of work, Tony, much less their parents,” Bruce started and held up a hand the moment he knew Tony was going to deny the ‘parent’ part before continuing, “You reacted similarly to how any other parent would have acted seeing their kid in pain.”

“I’m not his parent, Banner. I’m not even his guardian. He’s got his aunt that already that cares for him, that loves him more anything in the world,” Tony explained, voice laced with a hint of sorrow and dejection that Bruce seldom heard.

“You mean to tell me that you don’t love him?” Bruce pressed on, arms crossed and eyebrow raised.

Tony drew back as if he had been hit and replied, “Of course I love him. More than anything. But wouldn’t even probably be here right now if I stood my ground with that first doctor. His aunt would have demanded another opinion instantly. I’m just saying, he doesn’t need me. Not like he needs his aunt.”

Bruce sighed, rolling his eyes, wondering how one person could simultaneously be one of the dumbest and smartest people alive. 

“You’ve never been more wrong in your life, Tony,” Bruce pointed out.

“That’s debatable,” Tony mumbled, reaching a hand out to sweep the curls off Peter’s face.

“Take it from someone who’s known you longer than most of the other people surrounding you here. This child needs you more than he needs the air around him to breathe and the same thing goes for you. And contrary to your popular belief, a child can have more than just one person to love and take care of them, Tony.”

Bruce could see a faint smile grow on Tony’s lip and he considered it a success and probably as much as he was going to get out of him.

Leaving the conversation be, he started hooking up Peter to several machines to keep a close eye on his vitals and programmed them to make sure he would be notified of any drastic changes.

“I’m gonna head up and try to catch some sleep. I’ll be notified of any changes but if you need me too, just let me know.”

Tony shooed him off with a wave of his hand and after Bruce left he focused on Peter. His breathing was still raspy and his chest still heaved up and down too fast for his liking. But for the first time in days, he was sleeping relatively soundly. Tony had to imagine it was because of how much energy this entire fiasco drained him out of when he barely had any to start with.

“Friday, dim the lights by eighty percent.”

Tony let out a deep breath as the light faded around him and Peter in the small private room. Not too dark, that he couldn’t see Peter anymore, but the effect was still enough for Tony’s eyelids to start drooping. He had barely slept at all while taking care of Peter and during this one moment of peace, he could feel all the stress and need to rest weighing him down. But not before pulling his chair as close as possible and grabbing a hold of Peter’s hand closest to him and after a soft reassurance to Peter that he loved him, did Tony finally let sleep take a hold of him.


	3. "Bud, you can't rest yet. Keep your eyes open."

~

“Bud, you can’t rest yet. Keep your eyes open,” Tony implored, gently sweeping the kid’s bangs back.

“Why?” Peter whined, drawing out the question as he curled up on his side.

“Because someone decided to bang his head around out on patrol tonight and sue me for trying to get him checked out,” Tony huffed, gently turning Peter onto his back.

“It’s not like I asked for it, Mister Stark,” Peter grumbled, glancing up at his mentor who gave him a fond, yet exasperated look.

“That’s debatable,” Tony replied, smirking at the half-hearted glare he got in return. 

Peter sighed throwing his head back on the pillow which sent a chill down Tony’s back immediately.

“Jesus, easy there, kid,” Tony scolded, gentle grabbing a hold of Peter’s head and then offered a stern glare at the teen, “If you do have a head injury the last thing we need is you making it worse.”

“A pillow’s not gonna do damage, Mister Stark,” Peter replied with a roll of his eyes and Tony flicked him gently on the nose, not even hard enough to hurt a fly.

“Ow,” Peter pouted, rubbing at his nose before shooting an unimpressed look up at his mentor. The doors to the medbay slid open at the same time and Bruce hurried in, an apologetic look on his face.

“Beating up on someone who’s already down? That’s low, even for you, Mister Stark,” Peter pointed out, giving a wounded look towards his mentor and then Bruce.

“Who’s beating who up, now?”

“Mister Stark is beating me up, Doctor Banner.”

“He deserves it,” Tony replied, deadpanned all the while Peter’s legs were laid over Tony’s lap and Tony still had his fingers sweeping through Peter’s curls.

Bruce sighed, shaking his head. He should have grabbed a coffee on his way over here because he was guessing he was gonna need it. A whole lot of it.


	4. “Shhh, I know it hurts, I know.”

It was late at night and Tony was busy fiddling around with the schematics for Rhodey’s new legs. He worked to the beat of the rock music that blared from his speakers, occasionally sipping from a coffee-stained mug that he almost sure he had been using as a pencil holder last week. 

Between the music and the numbers, figures and ideas running through his mind at whirlwind speed, it was hard for anything else to penetrate his mind. 

Except for Peter. 

Tony would every now and then wonder how the kid was doing. He was on the tail end of his patrol as midnight came around and from the updates that Friday was giving him, the kid was having an uneventful night. 

That was until Friday gave him the most recent update.

“Boss, I’m detecting critically high heat readings surrounding Peter’s suit.”

Apparently, his kid had now decided to throw himself into the fires of Mordor. 

Or rather into an apartment building that had been caught on fire, Tony realized ten minutes later as he flew overhead the burning building ordering Friday to direct him towards Peter. 

He crashed through a bedroom window a few moments later and thankfully didn’t have to search too long for his kid. It wasn’t too hard to take notice of the blue and red-clad kid that was curled up on the floor unconscious with flames licking at his skin. 

“Damn it, Peter.” Tony cursed as he hoisted the kid into his arms, Peter’s head flopping back.

“I got you, bud.” Tony murmured, as he situated the kid more comfortably in his arms. 

He had already directed his other suits to start contaminating and extinguishing the fire, leaving little room for him to feel guilty about not saving any other people that were stuck in the fire. 

He’d later learn that Peter had been able to get everybody out before he collapsed due to a large amount of smoke he had inhaled. 

Tony raced back towards the compound, instructing Friday to keep him updated on Peter’s vitals and to send an urgent report to the doctors in the medbay. By the time they reached there, the doctors and nurses on staff were anxiously waiting their arrival. 

Tony gently laid Peter on the bed before backing away to get out of his suit. In that time, the nurses had removed Peter’s suit and were busy slapping heart monitors to his chest and getting an oxygen mask situated on his face while a doctor listened to his lungs. 

While the medical staff communicated to each other in their own jargon, Tony squeezed, or rather pushed his way, to the head of the bed and gently smoothed back Peter’s curls from his forehead, his hand getting covered in ash. He took notice of the small burns that scattered Peter’s face and the black ash that circled around his mouth and nose. 

“Come on, kiddo. Open those eyes for us, bud.” Tony urged the kid, pressing his lips to Peter’s forehead. He glanced back up and his eyes scanned over the rest of the kid’s body, noticing that his injuries only got worse. 

Peter’s torso and limbs were marred with bright red, swollen burns that glistened in the light. Blisters had already formed while some of the skin had started to peel away, exposing the raw layer of skin beneath. 

Tony swallowed heavily, starting to pray that his kid remained unconscious instead, just to ease his suffering, as he watched the nurses started to drape cold towels over Peter’s burns. 

Things never worked in his favor though as Peter started to become more alert. 

Tony tried his best to placate the kid as he started to whither around, whimpering. “It’s okay, Peter. You’re okay, bud.” 

“H-hurts.” Peter cried, tears leaking from the corner of his eyes as he opened them, gazing up at Tony. 

“Shhh. I know, it hurts. I know, kiddo.” Tony murmured, thumbs reaching out to wipe away at the tears, careful not to aggravate any of the burns. 

Tony was about to lean down to press another kiss to kid’s head when one of the doctors stepped in, pushing Tony out of the way and shined a light into Peter’s eyes while trying to gauge his level of consciousness by asking him a series of questions.

“What’s your name?”

“Mister Stark!” Peter ignored the doctor and his eyes desperately searched out for his mentor. 

“Eyes up here.” The doctor tried in vain to get his patient to focus on him but Peter had other ideas in mind. Tony pushed his way back to Peter’s side and leaned down, stroking the kid’s curls. The stress that built up in Peter’s shoulders from Tony’s disappearance immediately vanished the instant Tony appearance once again in his line of view. 

“I’m here, kiddo. But you need to listen to the doctor. Be a good spider-baby and answer his questions, okay?” 

Peter managed a small nod and his eyes hesitantly traveled back up to the doctor who started questioning him again. Peter answered each one, slowly with his voice cracking every few seconds and with a cough that rattled his entire body.   
A few minutes later, the doctor concluded that Peter was alert of his surroundings and briefly remembered the events that transpired that night. 

Tony took the doctor’s place at the head of the bed once he moved away and tried to keep Peter’s attention on him as the staff worked on his burns. Tony knew that Peter’s powers would speed up the healing time for his burns, but the process was not going to be easy. 

Even with the cocktail of pain medications that were coursing through Peter’s veins via IVs, Tony had to still spend hours comforting the kid as he sobbed his way through the nurses cleaning, disinfecting and bandaging up his mix of first and second-degree burns. 

Hours later, Tony glanced at the clock as he finally took a seat next to Peter’s bed, his body depleted of all the adrenaline that had been built up. 

3:08 am. 

Peter was asleep, head lolled to the side the oxygen mask still pressed against his nose and mouth. His breathing was the top concern for the doctors and numerous x-rays and scans were taken to calculate any damage that might have occurred to his lungs.

The burns on his face didn’t require any extensive treatment and didn’t need to be covered up so they were an unforgiving sight as Tony gazed into Peter’s face while his fingers played around with the kid’s curls. 

As his eyes momentarily drifted to Peter’s chest, taking in the slow, uneven rise and fall of his chest, he glanced at the white bandages that peeked out beneath Peter’s gown. If luck was on their side, they could be removed within the next three days, the doctor had told him. 

Tony sighed, thinking back to that conversation or really any other conversation he was forced to have with these doctors. 

He had to remind himself that bottom line, Peter was going to be okay. This could have been worse. Much worse…

No, stop thinking about worse scenarios. He thought to himself. 

He had enough nightmares pertaining to Peter being injured and he didn’t desire for any more. He forced himself to push away all the dreadful thoughts trying to invade his mind and turned his mind towards his tablet instead, working on adding in upgrades to Peter’s suit to make it completely flame resistant. 

Other than the beeping coming from the heart monitor and wheezing coming from Peter, silence surrounds Tony for almost an hour as he worked through the upgrades. 

When he finally noticed that his movements are becoming sluggish, evidence of the exhaustion running through his body, Tony allows himself to lean back against his chair for a moment and before he knows it, darkness overtakes him. 

~  
The first thing that registered in Peter’s mind when he woke up was the throbbing pain that resonated throughout his body. 

No thank you. Peter decided as he willed himself to fall back asleep which was hard thanks to the snoring that was coming from next to him. 

“Mister Stark,” Peter cracked out, wincing as pain pricked at his throat. 

God, his mouth was dry. 

Peter saw a glass of water on the table next to him and reached out, quickly realized he couldn’t move his arm out with pain radiating throughout his entire limb. Peter let out a choking sob at the painful sensation and not a second later Tony was shooting up from his seat. 

Tony’s eyes darted around until they landed on Peter and he leaned in closer. 

“Shh, you’re okay, bud,” Tony murmured, gently pushing back Peter’s hair away while his other hand reached towards the nurse’s button. 

“H’rts.” 

“We just have to increase your pain medicine, kiddo, and you’ll be fine.” Tony explained and a moment later the door to his room opened and Tony’s eyes drifted towards it. “See, the nurse is here, buddy and she’s gonna get the meds going again.”

“’ood ones?”

Tony chuckled, his thumb stroking Peter’s forehead softly. “Yeah, spider-baby. The really good meds.”

The nurse came closer, greeting herself before checking the machines that Peter was hooked up to and replaces his bag of pain medication. 

She then checks him over—asking questions similar to the doctor from earlier, makes him point out his pain level on a chart of smiley faces (the frowny expression with tears means ‘worst possible pain’ and the smiling expression means ‘no pain’ the nurse had explained and Peter could practically hear Tony rolling his eyes) and gets a set of vitals on him. 

She then pulls his blanket off and unhooks his gown from his shoulders exposing his chest before grabbing a stethoscope and presses it to his chest. She instructs him to take a deep breath which turns out to be harder than Peter thought it would be. He inhales and a series of harsh coughs come out when he tries to exhale. He sees Tony fidgeting in worry from his side view and feels Tony lay a comforting hand on the top of his head. 

However, the nurse gives them both a reassuring look. 

“That’s okay, Peter. Let it all out. Your lungs are actually sounding better.” 

She takes a few moments to listen to his heart, seeming to be in agreement as to what she hears before tugging his gown back up and tucking the blankets back around him, being mindful of the bandages. 

Tony waits until the nurse leaves before turning back to Peter. He takes note that new pain medication was already starting to take effect as Peter’s eyelids were starting to droop. 

“Sleep, Peter. You need all the rest you can get, bud.” Tony starts to run his fingers through Peter’s hair once more, knowing that it was one of the few things that lulled Peter to sleep. 

Peter gazes up at him, eyes unfocused and says one thing. “M’sorry.”

Tony sighs, taking a seat back down in the chair before leaning over, hand never leaving Peter’s curls.

He makes sure Peter is looking at him before saying, “There’s nothing to be sorry for, bud. We just got taught a hard lesson on making sure the suit is more flame resistant.”

Its Peter turn to sigh and he mumbles out, “Not mad?”

Tony rolls his eyes before shaking his head. “You saved over thirty people in a burning apartment building, Peter. I don’t know how I could ever be mad at you about that, kiddo.” 

“D’nt like it when m’hurt,” Peter points out. 

“True, but it’s a part of being a superhero, buddy. No one gets out of this business unscathed, kiddo. It’s my job to make sure its just a little bit easier for you.”

Peter’s lips curl up into a smile and meanwhile, a fond expression settles over Tony’s face. They bask in the silence for a few moments before Tony interrupts.

“Now, enough sappiness. My heart can only take so much before it shuts down” He reaches for the blankets and pulls them up a little higher, settling them just beneath Peter’s chin. “You have to get some rest, especially since Happy’s bringing Aunt May over in the afternoon. And trust me, she’s not happy.”

Peter’s eyes widen. “Oh no.”

“Oh yes.”


End file.
